The setting of Madrid's Centro Cultural de la Villa is
highly dramatic. The subterranean walkway to the foyer takes the audience
beneath the fountains of Plaza Colón into a space directly behind its
awesome cascades. The sight and sound of the drumming water cuts the audience
off from the buzz of the modern capital, ushering us down towards something
romantic, mysterious, atavistic - perhaps even into a Lost World.

Said Lost World was duly discovered, embalmed but intact, in
these productions of Compañía Musiarte. For many Spanish
theatregoers, "zarzuela" is synonymous with old-fashioned,
ultra-conservative, dead theatre. Those of us foreigners who habitually confine
ourselves to the more progressive presentations of the Teatro de la Zarzuela
might be forgiven for believing that such opinions were themselves out of date,
but undoubtedly there exists a thick sub-stratum of professional zarzuela for
which the criticism holds good.

With a capable pit band of 32 players and a chorus of 24, under
the secure musical direction of Tulio Gagliardo, the problems of
Compañía Musiarte do not stem from lack of musical preparation.
Nor would it be fair to belittle the talents of many of the principals, a
stimulating mix of talented young performers with established singers and
superannuated stars. It is a tribute to the company's directors, Antonio
Lagar and María Dolores Travesedo, that they can sustain
national tours of the great zarzuelas with a company this size, without any
large public grants or funding. To attract the audiences they need, a degree of
conservatism is inevitable.

The problem though is not one of money, or conservatism, or
rehearsal time, but rather of theatrical imagination and technical expertise.
La dolorosa on an essentially bare stage need not be the distressing
travesty we saw at the Centro Cultural de la Villa, with random entrances and
exits, lack of any kind of dramatic focus and amateurish lighting. Any
unsuspecting visitor experiencing the piece for the first time would not have
suspected that this was one of the masterpieces of the repertoire. At the top
of the action Rafael duly lugs on his painting of the Virgin Dolorosa, but
neither he nor his clerical auditors pay the remotest attention to it during
his great Relato, which becomes a simple matter of "stand and sing".
What happened to drama? To theatricality?

La revoltosa fared better, with a simple but functional
tenement courtyard at least providing the right number of entrances and exits.
The staging problems of the complex comedy ensembles had been addressed, though
again the farcical fun of the last scene was scotched by inadequate lighting
which made it look as if the characters weren't so much stumbling in the dark
as undergoing group psychotherapy after closing time in El Corte
Inglés. Still, Chapí's La revoltosa much more than
La dolorosa is a study in community life and dynamism. It stands or
falls on the quantity as well as the quality of its performers, and in this
respect it was far luckier than Serrano's work.

Those performers ... to take the superannuated stars first, we had
the great Miguel de Grandy, and whatever might be said about his
directorial vacuity his skills and energies as a performer are undiminished.
His Cándido in La revoltosa was a model of comic finesse, clarity
and wit. José Luis Cancela has clearly been a fine singer in his
time; but now that he cannot securely hold pitch or keep time musically, or say
a single line without first pausing for reflection, only noble presence rescues
his Prior (La dolorosa) from artistic oblivion. His Candelas (La
revoltosa) is as complaisant as it is traditional.

The established singers, with the mystifying exception of a
bafflingly inadequate Dolores in La dolorosa, emerged with credit.
Guadalupe Sánchez could probably perform Mari-Pepa (La
revoltosa) in her sleep, and although her vocal timbre is more fino
than oloroso these days her theatrical and musical personality are as
winning as ever. Her rich-voiced Felipe (Salvador Baladez) brought
considerable personality to bear, though much less focus - which maybe accounts
for his needing a prompt from his partner during their famous verbal sparring
match. The great dúo was lacking in subtle refinement, but
together Sánchez and Baladez did more than enough to bring this complex
pair to life.

Last and best, two promising performers in La dolorosa.
Nacho Muñoz, the chunky, streetwise Perico, took what few acting
opportunities de Grandys threadbare staging allowed him. If his vocal
range and projection can be developed, many engagements as a tenor
cómico beckon to a performer of such charm and communicability.
Francisco Pardo, the tall, ascetically spare Rafael, has a tenor of
quite another stamp, a fresh, well-supported lyric sound with personality and a
thrilling ring to the top. Although his performance skills need to be honed in
more auspicious surroundings, the basic material is there for a fine career -
provided he does not push his voice too hard, too soon.

Despite Compañia Musiarte's worn-out production style it
was a pleasure to experience this coupling of two masterpieces. The dancing in
La revoltosa was unexpectedly good, the choral singing acceptable, the
minor roles in both works given with enthusiasm. Re-emerging from under the
waterfall, the unexpected thought occurred that perhaps after all there is a
deal to be said for the modern world - at least when it comes to technical
skill and the freedom allowed to creative, theatrical imagination. The staging
of zarzuela is too vital a matter to be left in the nostalgic limbo of a Lost
World.